They say the only constant in life is death and taxes, but I disagree. The only constant in life is change. Death is the ultimate change, taxes can cause change, but in either case, change is the catalyst.

Most people find change hard, we like comfort, security, and the feeling of knowing what’s next. Change is disruptive. When I found myself engaged in yet another argument with my spouse, the words of a friend popped into my head: there’s comfort in the dysfunction.  

It’s hard to recognize when a relationship has run its course; to see that two people who used to be synchronized now want different things from life, their paths diverging. It’s hard to let go because it feels like failure and it hurts.  

Separating from someone you’ve been with for 15 years, raised kids with, shared a home with, and with whom you’ve built a life, hurts.  

There’s pain, questioning, obsessing over what you did wrong, what his shortcomings were, what if you’d done things differently. Emotionally, it’s tumultuous. Feelings range from indifferent, frustrated, disappointed, rejected, furious, powerless, and grief-stricken. You can’t help but wonder how you’re going to come out on the other side in one piece without breaking.

How does one cope with all this ‘shit’?  Edibles.

In my case I had several tools that helped me through the darkest days, edibles being one that brought me peace, calm, and a feeling that everything was going to work out. Plus, they helped me sleep when my mind would otherwise be racing.

I use edibles primarily in the evenings. It’s akin to that nightly glass of wine that I gave up long ago when I found it wasn’t serving me. Edibles, on the other hand, were like a warm hug that softened the edges of a seeking mind that sought to analyze every detail. A mind that would become anxious and fearful at the prospect of the monumental upheaval that was coming as my partner and I planned our separation.

When I was alone at night, unable to see what was next, but knowing that everything as I knew it would change, the edibles would offer my body a deep feeling of relaxation. I would often meditate in these quiet moments, the edibles high allowing me to enjoy the clarity of a mind resting in the present moment instead of rehashing the past or trying to predict a future that I couldn’t possibly see.  

I’ve been using edibles for years now, it’s my preferred way to use cannabis as I’ve discovered I’m sensitive to THC. When inhaled I can easily take too much, making me uncomfortable in my body. But edibles are different. I know my dose, I’m intimate with its effects and I can consume the desired amount based on circumstances. On those quiet nights alone, I would seek out a higher-than-normal dose, understanding its power to give me lucidity in what I was feeling and thinking.  

Coming Home 

I’ve since moved and settled in a new space where I’ll stay for a while as I continue to work through many emotions. I moved back to the home where I grew up, living with my spry 92-year-old father. A place that holds a lot of memories, a place where I came of age. When I last lived here, I was 19 years old and the house was shared with my mother and my sister.  

Things have changed a lot since then. My mother died and my sister moved away. Instead of feeling shame moving back home as a woman starting over again in her 40s, I’m feeling grateful. My dad has been welcoming in the quiet way that he has, the fear that we’d revert to that classic parent-child relationship forgotten. He hasn’t changed his routine on account of my arrival - he still has his octogenarian friends over to play pool several days a week, the sounds of their laughter filling the house. 

But I’ve realized how lonely he must have been over the 7 years since my mom passed away. I know he likes the company – someone to share dinner with again. His diet of frozen dinners is now replaced with home-cooked meals, a task I’ve gladly taken on. I know how precious this time is. Though he still drives, runs errands, and does the daily crossword, I know that he won’t be around forever, though if anyone was going to live forever, it would be him.  

Change is as hard as we want to make it

I’ve been surprised at how well we mesh after all these years. When I lived at home as a teenager, I was a rebellious asshole who didn’t appreciate her imperfect but caring parents. I’ve been able to lower my nightly edibles dose. I’m dealing with different emotions now. I’m hopeful, curious, thankful and I feel free.  

I still meditate with edibles in the evening, still contemplate how incredibly lucky I am, and I’m unpacking that relationship with all its learnings with a therapist. I have incredible friends and a wonderful sister who have supported me through this too. 

As this next chapter unfolds I’ve reframed the uncertainty into excitement. I’ll continue to use edibles to relax my mind and body, to offer clarity in quiet moments and see things from a fresh perspective.